


Letters From Home

by Halo793



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ALL THE GOOD STUFF, Break Up, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Make Up, Smut, im the shittiest tagger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-01 13:37:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5207822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halo793/pseuds/Halo793
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turning on the hazard lights he pulled onto the side of the road. With shaky hands he pulled his phone and his wallet from his pocket. Carefully he unfolded the letter from his wallet and laid it gently in the passenger seat. Her handwriting flowed across the page. Lines worn in the paper from folding and unfolding; reading and rereading. He smiled at the old photo taped to the bottom and quickly searched through his phone for her name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had this posted on another site that disappeared. lol. So I figured I'd post it here. It's pretty damn long, But I wanna post it as a oneshot first and see how it does. :) tell me what you think.

He didn’t know what it was. Maybe the woman’s hair was just a shade too close to her color. Maybe her lips curved in a way that was too similar. Whatever it was about that victim he was driving away from; it made him think of her. He started to wonder, and when he started to wonder he started to worry. Turning on the hazard lights he pulled onto the side of the road. With shaky hands he pulled his phone and his wallet from his pocket. Carefully he unfolded the letter from his wallet and laid it gently in the passenger seat. Her handwriting flowed across the page. Lines worn in the paper from folding and unfolding; reading and rereading. He smiled at the old photo taped to the bottom and quickly searched through his phone for her name. His ears ached to hear her voice; skin ached to feel her touch.

The phone rang a couple times before she answered.

“Hello?” the delicate voice poured into his ears and eased his troubled soul.

He breathed in relief as his eyes drifted shut. Her voice had to be the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. It was like all your favorite songs rolled into one. It could break a man’s heart and bring him to his knees. But mostly all it did was sooth his worried heart and still his shaking knees.

“Dean? You alright?”

She pulled him from his daydream, “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” he told her quickly, “Just… just needed to hear you,” after another sigh he laid his head back against the seat, “Talk to me. Tell me about your day,”

He could hear the smile on her lips, “Tell you about my day? Well… ouch! Damn it!”

“What’s wrong? Are you ok? Lacey?” his voice was frantic as his eyes snapped open.

“I’m fine, I’m alright,” her semi-southern voice lulled, “Max stepped on my foot. I swear, damn dog knows you’re on the phone… wants you home bad as I do,”

“I know, Lace, I should be home in a couple days. What have you been up to?” he started to drive again, headed toward the victim’s family, knowing the quicker he got done the quicker he’d be with her.

“Well, Sara – you remember Sara, right? Sweet little blond up the road? – well, she took me shopping ‘cause it seems to be someone’s birthday comin’ up,”

He grinned, “You don’t need to be getting me anything,”

“True, lord knows you don’t deserve it, leaving me here with this tornado of a dog,” she teased, “But don’t you worry, honey, it’s just as much for me as it is for you,”

“Oh, really?” 

“Mhmm, you’re gunna love it. Promise,” her tone was a little bit seductive, which certainly had him interested.

He slowed the car slightly when he realized how close he was to the house. He didn’t want to get off the phone with her yet. She started telling him about something that had happened between a patient and herself at work. He hadn’t ever appreciated the danger of being a nurse, especially in an ER… but he worried about her when she was at work all the time.

“– The man had all but lost his ever-lovin’ mind when Dwayne finally got down there to help restrain ‘im and –“

“Babe?” he interrupted abruptly. 

“Yeah?”

“God, I miss you,” he confessed with a sigh as he pulled up to the victim’s home

“I miss you too,” she sounded shy, he could almost hear her blush.

“I – uh – I gotta get goin’…”

“I swear to god, Dean Winchester, if you don’t be careful and come back in one piece then the next time you die it’ll be me endin’ you,” she warned.

A smirk spread across his lips, “Yes, ma’am.” He chuckled, “I’ll be home soon,”

 

6 years ago

 

“Lacey Johnson, triage room three. Lacey Johnson,” The intercom rang through the ER ward.

Sighing inwardly she put down her fork and headed out of the lounge, so much for getting to actually eat on shift. Always in a hurry, she had the speed-walk down pat. As she rounded the corner into room three she grabbed the chart from the wall and slid the curtain shut all in one fluid motion. She didn’t look up as she moved to stand at the foot of the hospital bed as she read through the chart.

“Alright,” she sighed, “Here for multiple lacerations, bruising, possible concussion, and a broken rib?”

“Uh, yes ma’am, I would assume that’s me,” his voice was deep and rough.

“Mhmm, Mr. Winchester? Like the gun?” she finally looked up to see him smirk.

“Yup, just like the gun,”

She smiled politely and looked him over. He sat on the bed with his legs over one side, obviously ready to bolt if he needed to. A cut above his eyebrow had trickled blood down the side of his face and his arms were covered in gashes. His light brown hair was disheveled and disorderly and his green eyes sparkled as they roamed over her blue scrub clad body. She turned to the cabinet and pulled out a paper gown.

“Strip,” she tossed the gown down on the bed beside him.

“Excuse me?”

“Down to your underwear, darlin’, put the gown on if it makes you feel better,” she smiled politely as he groaned and stood up.

“Y’know, I normally make a girl buy me dinner first,” he smirked pulling his shirt over his head before grunting with the pain of his rib. 

Her eyes caught the darkening area of his rib cage where the bruise was quickly forming. Scanning over his, admittedly attractive, torso she saw even more gashes that slowly trickled blood from the removal of the shirt. Before he could remove his jeans she told him to sit and pulled a stainless steel cart with supplies along with her as she sat in front of him. 

“So, how’d this happen?” she snapped on a pair of blue latex gloves.

“It was a, um, a bar fight,”

“Uh-huh,” She made an unimpressed grunt but accepted the excuse, “Helluva bar fight,”

“You should see the other guy,” he joked before hissing through his teeth. She was cleaning a particularly nasty gash with an alcohol soaked sponge. 

“Don’t be a baby,”

He smiled, she was tough and blunt and definitely not bad to look at; especially at this angle, and with her bent forward to clean his wound he could see a maroon lace bra. 

Clearing his throat and forcing his eyes away from her chest, “So, uh, my name’s Dean, by the way,”

“Lacey,” her voice had softened and her eyes were intent on another wound, working her way around his body, cleaning before going back to stitch up the worst of them.

“You’re a nurse?”

“Nurse Practitioner,” she corrected gently.

“Um, no offence, but what’s the difference… I’m honestly curious,”

She grinned, “I’m licensed to do more than a nurse can,”

“So… a doctor?”

She giggled, “Not quite,”

He watched as she tucked a stray bit of reddish-brown hair behind her ear. Her blue eyes were intent on her stitching as she bit her lip. She stitched quickly and was done in half the time it normally took for him to do it himself… and it looked a thousand times better. 

“So, do you ever let patients take you out on a date?” he asked in a smooth voice.

She glanced up at him from under her long black eyelashes before looking back to her work, “Only if they ask nice,”

He chuckled, “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not one for askin’ nice,”

“Then I guess you aren’t one to take me out,” she grinned as she sat up straight and pulled the gloves off her hands, “You can put your shirt on,”

Lifting his eyebrows he stood and stepped closer to her, “You sure you want me to?”

“Sir,” she said warningly. 

He put his hands up in defeat and pulled his shirt on quickly as she headed for the exit. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into the room.

“Go out with me tonight,” he said quietly. When she only raised her eyebrows waiting he sighed and continued, “Please,”

She grinned and glanced up at the clock, “I get off in four hours,”

“You don’t get off till 4 a.m.?”

“Sugar, I’ve been here since 4 a.m. yesterday,”

“Well, alright. I’ll be here, promise,” he winked and let go of her hand.

 

Six hours, a 24-hour diner, and a couple beers later the sun was rising and Dean found himself in Lacey’s cozy home with her back pushed up against the bedroom wall. Her soft lips moved deftly along with his and her nimble fingers made quick work of his shirt and the button to his jeans. He finally got a full look at the maroon bra as it was being thrown on the floor. He’d done this plenty of times before, and starting out this was no different. But something in the way she moved, the things she did, the way she touched him… it was hypnotizing and intoxicating. He couldn’t get enough and the more he had the more he wanted. One night wasn’t going to be enough, and it was very possible that she could be the best he’d ever been with. She didn’t do anything different or new… she just did everything better than he had experienced before. For once, he was having trouble keeping up with the girl. 

She sat atop his hips with her knees on either side of him and grinned mischievously at him before dipping down to kiss him. Her lips made a trail down his neck and chest and she disappeared beneath the sheet. Pulling the sheet back just enough so he could see her, she peered up at him. Bright blue eyes sparkled in the dark as she gently brushed her lips along his hip. He shivered and was unable to look away from her mesmerizing eyes. Velvety lips and a warm tongue worked their magic and left his legs shaking before she stopped and gave a challenging smile. His breathing shuttered as he grabbed her hair and brought her lips to crash into his.

 

When he woke a few hours later to find her curled up in his arms he had a moment of panic. He never stayed the night, ever. He couldn’t help but reason with himself, it technically wasn’t staying the night, and they hadn’t gotten in until almost 6:30 in the morning. He couldn’t bring himself to leave her, but he also wouldn’t admit to himself that he was enjoying the closeness as much as she probably was.

He drifted back to sleep to be woken by her angry voice later.

“Are you kiddin’ me?”

He grunted and rolled to face her. A tight white tank top hugged her body and her maroon panties had found their way from the floor back on her body. He also noticed that she had his gun in her hand as she stared at him waiting for an answer. He rolled out of the bed quickly and stood with his hands in a cautious surrender. 

“Whoa, let’s talk,” he said calmly.

“Oh, really?” she put her free hand on her hip and waved the gun, “Oh, yeah, let’s talk. How about what the hell you think you’re doin’ bringin’ a weapon into my house!?” her southern accent got thicker as she got angrier, “I mean, I aint exactly expectin’ my easy one-night-stand to be a respectable stand-up guy… but a gun? Really? And a knife?” she gestured to his jeans by the door where the knife handle poked out.

“Look, I can explain,”

“Oh, please do!” she waved the gun again, obviously not remembering the weapon in her hand.

“Jesus, girl!” he ducked when she waved it, “Put the gun down,”

“I dunno if I wanna, now start talkin’,”

“Alright… after the bar fight I wanted to carry it with me in case I ran into those guys ag-“

“Oh stop!” she huffed, “I’ve seen plenty of bar fights, and that,” she gestured to his wounds with the gun causing him to flinch, “That aint no bar fight, sugar,”

“Ok, alright, just put the weapon down,” he stepped toward her slowly with his hands still raised.

She quickly turned off the safety and cocked the weapon, training it on his hesitant figure, “Honey, we may not be Deep South, but we’re south enough I know good and well how ta handle a gun,”

“Ok, ok,” he sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, he was still in only his boxers, “Look, you put the gun as far from me as you want… let’s talk,”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously before she turned on the safety and turned to put the gun and the knife in the small safe in her closet. He sighed with defeat, there went one plan. When he gestured for her to sit she only stood with one hip cocked and her arms crossed.

“Look, what I do isn’t safe, that’s why I carry the gun… why I’m torn up. I meant to leave ‘fore you woke up so you wouldn’t find all that,”

She raised her eyebrow and jerked her chin up, “How’d you get torn up?”

“I, uh, it’s part of my job. I-“

“No, I got that part,” she interrupted, “What happened? Was it an animal? It sure as hell wasn’t human,”

“It’s not easy to explain or understand…”

“Try me,”

He sighed looking down, this girl was stubborn. When he looked back up at her he could see that she wasn’t going to let it go.

When he spoke, he spoke quietly and tried not to make eye contact with her, “I hunt. I hunt things that… they’re really dangerous. I try to save people,”

“Like bears? There aint no bears ‘roun’ here,”

“Not bears, Lacey. I wish it were just bears,” he looked up to her again, “I really don’t wanna tell you this, please, just give me my stuff and I’ll go,”

“Aint no way in hell. I patched you up, I let you in my home… you tell me what the hell is goin’ on ‘fore I make you tell me,”

‘Damn, she’s feisty,’ he thought with a smirk.


	2. Chapter 2

The brothers sat across from each other on the worn benches of the diner booth. Sam was reading information off of his computer screen as Dean stared down at something in his hands under the table, out of Sam’s view. When a smile broke across his older brother’s face, Sam squinted suspiciously. Dean hadn’t been smiling lately, the closer his deal got to being up. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Sam sighed.

Dean didn’t look up but waved his hand dismissively at his worried little brother, “Yeah, yeah. Something like, ‘So, get this, blah blah blah, It’s probably a long shot, blah blah blah,’ right?”

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam leaned over the table trying to see what Dean was holding. He saw his cellphone in his hands before Dean could snap it shut and shove it in his pocket, “Are… are you… texting?”

“What? No?!” Dean denied quickly.

“Who?”

“No one, nothing,”

“Was that your back-up phone? You don’t text… much less use your back-up… what’s going on?”

“Nothin’ Sam. I was just… checkin’ the time…”

“And that causes you to smile? Right…” Sam’s eyes went wide with realization, “Was that a girl?! Are you talking to a girl?”

“No, it’s no one, Sam, step off,” Dean growled shoving a French fry in his mouth.

“You gave a girl your back-up number?” Sam hissed in disbelief, “You never actually talk to girls after… who is she?”

“Stop it, Sam,” Dean warned.

“Does she know about…?”

“About what, Sam? About my expiration date? No, she doesn’t and I’m gunna keep it that way,” Dean snapped.

“Does she know about what we do?” Sam questioned quietly. He used a more gentle voice, no longer teasing his brother.

“Yeah,” Dean admitted.

Sam’s jaw dropped and he blinked in shock, “You actually told someone?”

Dean only nodded slowly.

“How long have you known her?”

“’bout a year,” Dean gave a sad half-smile to his almost empty plate, “I went and saw her again after I made the deal… ‘member when we were on that hunt in south Kansas… near the Missouri line?” Sam nodded with a puzzled look, “She lives in Missouri near the line…”

“You disappeared for like two days, left me to do research alone… I figured you just didn’t wanna do the reading,” Sam chuckled before giving his brother a solemn look, “You really aren’t gunna tell her?”

Dean shook his head.

“Why? She deserves to know!”

Dean looked sternly at him, “She don’t need to be troubled by me,” Sam was about to protest when Dean stopped him, “I’ll deal with it my way, Sammy,”

Sam sighed, giving up when he saw the tired look in his brother’s eyes. He hated that Dean was so ready to give up, especially now that he knew Dean had been talking to someone… someone who was able to make him smile. That was a rare accomplishment and Sam vowed to himself that he would thank her for making his brother smile.

 

 

Two months later, Dean had been in hell for about two weeks and Sam was slowly making his way to a small town in Missouri to fulfill a promise he made Dean. Sam stopped at nearly every crossroads he could find, trying to deal himself in place of Dean, but no demon would take the bait. He had killed over a dozen in only two weeks. He drove too fast, in empty, emotionless silence. There was a soft buzzing sound in the glove box so he pulled onto the side of the highway and dug through the cellphones to find it was one of Dean’s. Not recognizing the name or the number he opened the phone and answered cautiously. 

“Hello?” his voice was a low grumble.

The soft melodic voice that came through the other end took him off guard, “Oh, I… I’m sorry; I must have the wrong number…”

“No! Wait, who are you looking for?”

“I, um, I’m lookin’ for Dean. Dean Winchester,” she said softly.

“I’m his brother,”

“Sam? What’s wrong? Where is he? I haven’t heard from him in two weeks… he tries to tell me he’s alright at least once a week… I don’t wanna be that pushy annoyin’ girl but…”

“Yeah… how’d you know my name?” he was suddenly even more suspicious of this mystery phone call.

“He talks about you a lot. Tells me all ‘bout you,” he could hear the smile on her lips, “Where is he?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment.

“Oh, I’m Lacey, by the way,”

“Oh my god! Lacey, I’m actually just outside Joplin… can we meet up somewhere to talk?” 

“Yeah, I guess… is everythin’ alright?” 

“Yeah, I’ll explain when I get there,” he said softly.

She gave him the address to a small café and he told her to meet him there in thirty minutes. It only took him fifteen to get there so he waited in the Impala and did something he hadn’t yet… he looked through Dean’s old phone.

All the calls were to or from the girl. Same with the texts, he didn’t read them… he felt like that was eavesdropping. He looked at the pictures saved to the phone and found one of a smiley blue eyed girl, he assumed it was her. He sat, on the lookout for the girl in the picture and when he saw her arrive he watched as she went into the small building and took a table by the windows. He noticed that she picked one with three seats. He took a long deep breath and forced himself to get out of the car. All of his muscles ached, from lack of sleep and too much drinking. 

He walked up to her and she looked up and took in his appearance. He looked a mess, smelled like liquor and blood; his eyes had the darkest bags she’d seen. He had a split lip and a fading bruise on his cheek bone.

“Sam?” her voice was wary and when he nodded she motioned for him to take a seat, “What’s wrong? Where’s Dean?”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about,” he whispered.

She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, “We shoulda done this someplace more private then,” she mumbled. She knew what news was coming, or had a feeling at least, “What happened?”

“He had a deal… a crossroads deal… time was up and…”

“He’d mentioned an ongoing crossroads case… didn’t think he woulda been talkin’ ‘bout himself,” she commented taking a drink of her ice water.

“You are taking this surprisingly well…”

“Only ‘cause we’re in public… plannin’ to go home now and drink myself to the verge of death,” she chuckled darkly, “and ’sides, knew it was a risk… he knew too,”

“When’d you see him last?”

“’bout two months ago. He said you caught him talkin’ to me… got him thinkin’ ‘bout comin’ to see me,” she smiled, “Spent a few days here,”

He only nodded and stared down at the table until her small warm hand wrapped around one of his, “Sam, darlin’, you aren’t lookin’ good. C’mon, you can stay at my place, I’ll clean ya up,” she said softly.

“Naw, I’ll be alright,”

“You mistake that as a request, honey, now c’mon,” she stood and pulled him to the door

“Let’s at least take my car,” he whined.

“Like hell we will, you think I can’t tell you been drinkin’? Get in the car,” she said firmly as she pointed to her dark blue ’69 Mustang.

“Nice,” he grunted as he sat in the passenger seat, “Bet Dean woulda liked it,” Sam had given up trying to argue with her. She definitely had strong caregiver instincts. 

“He does,” she smiled softly, using present tense out of habit, “Helped me tune her up when I first got it. He checks it over every time he comes ‘round,”

They were silent the rest of the way to her small house. It sat at the end of a dimly lit, incredibly sparsely populated street. The outside was tan with white shutters and bushes under the front window. Two bedrooms and two bathrooms, though only one had a shower. It was small, cozy, and certain things gave Sam the impression Dean was here more often than he would like Sam to think. She pointed him to the end of the hall where the shower was. He found two toothbrushes on the counter and it made his heart twist. It was little things that remained to prove his brother had been here. 

When he emerged from the steaming bathroom he made his way down the hall and saw her curled in a recliner with her knees pulled up to her chest. He had only been ten minutes, but two empty beer bottles sat on the table in front of her and one freshly opened half empty one was balanced on the arm of the chair. She clung to a tee shirt and as Sam came into the room to sit on the nearby couch he saw it was one of Dean’s old band tees. She stared down at it emotionless.

“Beer’s in the ‘fridge,” she mumbled.

He went and retrieved a few; it looked like they would be going through them quick tonight.

“When?” she asked in a broken voice.

“Made the deal on May 2nd… time was up about a year later… ‘bout two weeks ago,”

She nodded, “He made the deal a little after we met, then,”

“I’m so sorry,” Sam blurted.

“Oh, honey, don’t be. You lost your brother, I’m more worried ‘bout you,” she took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze. 

“He wanted me to come check on you… he wanted me to lie about how it happened though. Guess that’s not the only promise to him I plan to break,”

“What’d’ya mean?”

He was wringing his hands together as he talked to her nervously. He didn’t know her. He didn’t know how much she knew about hunting. But Dean trusted her, so it made him feel a little better, “I’ve been… I told Dean I wouldn’t look for a way to bring him back… but I have. I’ve tried spells… I’ve tried… hell, I’ve tried making deals!”

“Sam,” she went to sit beside him and gently put her hand on his arm, “You know he wouldn’t want that,”

“Of course I know! I promised I wouldn’t! But I… I just… I can’t sit around and do nothing,” tears streaked his cheeks, “I need him,”

 

They both got drunk and took turns telling stories. Sam told her stories of Dean and Lacey told Sam stories from her life. Sam ended up passed out on the couch and by some drunken miracle she ended up in her own bed, still clinging onto Dean’s shirt.

She woke to find Sam had gone. He cleaned the mess from the living room and left a note apologizing for any inconvenience and telling her not to call unless it was an emergency. She quickly made up her mind to do something Dean would never want her to even think of… but he wasn’t there to stop her.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was in the passenger seat of the Impala, looking sullen and brooding as always. Dean focused on the road ahead. He’d been back from hell a while now. Dean gave in and told Sam a little about hell… not much… but told him some. Now there was still silence as they drove down the highway headed for the next job.

“I still can’t believe you won’t even call her to tell her you’re back,” Sam huffed.

“She’s probably moved on,” Dean repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. Sam seemed dead set on getting Dean to talk to Lacey again, “It’s safer this way… she’s safer,” he muttered.

“Whatever,” Sam looked out the window and another long silence took over the air between them.

Dean’s phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket quickly to answer, anything to fix this silence, “Yeah?”

“Dean, lemme talk to Sam,” Bobby demanded.

“Well, why’d you call me then?”

“Just give ‘im the damn phone, boy,”

“Alright, alright,” he pulled the phone away from his ear and passed it to Sam, “Old man seems a bit grumpy,”

Sam took the phone, “Bobby?”

“Sam, I don’t care how, but you get your brother to head this way,”

“What’s wrong? Is everythin’ ok?” Sam asked anxiously. Dean kept glancing between the road and trying to read his brothers face.

“Just get your asses here and get ‘em here quick,” then the line went silent

“He just hung up on me!” Sam said in disbelief. 

“Well?”

“He said to head to his place… wouldn’t say why,”

Dean sighed and turned off at the next highway, “Well, best not to keep ‘im waitin’,”

 

Sam and Dean drove slowly down the long dirt driveway and pulled up in front of Bobby’s. There was a dark blue mustang… it looked like Lacey’s… only this one had a black stripe along the top. There was an old rusty truck there too and it wasn’t one of Bobby’s.

As they got out of the car Dean nodded toward the mustang, “That car looks familiar,”

“Yeah? Who’s?”

“Nobody,” he grumbled, “Can’t be… one I’m thinkin’ of don’t have a stripe,”

Sam knew exactly what car he was thinking of and gave his brother a sad smile… even though he didn’t see it. They stepped up the porch and let themselves in.

“Ah! Damn it, girl!” a man said, it wasn’t Bobby.

“Quit bein’ a damn baby,” the sound of her voice traveled down the hall and Dean’s heart froze the second he heard it. He turned to bolt for the door but Sam pushed him the rest of the way down the hall to the office where the voices came from.

They came to the doorway and saw Bobby leaning against the wall furthest from them, a man was in an arm chair facing away from them.

“Alright, you’re all done,” she said standing up from kneeling in front of the man. Her eyes locked with Dean’s and he saw the moment of absolute disbelief in her eyes. She quickly hid it and didn’t move as the man left the room.

“Some bedside manner on this one,” he grumbled to Dean as he walked out the door.

When she heard the front door swing shut she moved forward and in a few long strides she was face to face with Dean. Sam took a wary step back when he saw the look in her eyes. Dean wasn’t sure what to expect… but he definitely wasn’t expecting what happened next. She planted her feet and fury built in her eyes as she reared back and slapped him across the face. Hard enough to send tingles up her arm and hard enough to send his head whipping to the side. He turned back to her, grabbing his jaw and his eyes wide with shock. 

She stood with one hand on her hip and the other pointing at him sternly, “That’s for not tellin’ me you had ‘hounds on yer ass,” she spat before pointing to the chair the other man had vacated, “Now, you sit you’re ass down and let me look ya over,”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grumbled.

“Don’t you sass me,” she was furious and he was surprised to find himself a little afraid. Her white tank top clung to her skin in the heat of Bobby’s old house and her tight blue jeans moved with her like a second skin. She pushed him down in the seat and knelt as she pulled her long auburn hair and tied it up.

“What are y’all comin’ from?” she asked. Sam walked to the other side of the room, snickering with Bobby about the smack she’d laid on his brother.

“Angels, demons, lotta bull shit,” Dean grunted as she started to clean dirt from a wound in his side. He held his shirt up for her and watched her carefully.

“Hm,” her tone seemed polite enough, “Seems bull-shit may be you’re specialty,” how could such bitter words sound so sweet?

Bobby chuckled, “Girl’s a firecracker,”

“Yeah, she’s somethin’” Dean was annoyed and it showed in his voice. He wanted them to leave so he could talk to her… try to explain somehow.

“OOOWWW-AH!” Dean hissed, drawing out the word as she scrubbed a little harder at the wound.

“Quit yer bitchin’,” the look on her face made it obvious she’d done it on purpose.

He watched her as she fell into her work, doing what she did best. She still bit at her lip the same and her eyes still looked intent on her task. Tunnel vision. Her blue eyes lost that angry fire and when she was focused they took on a different energy. A passion for what she was doing. Her hands moved quickly and precisely but her breathing slowed. Her slow, deep, even breaths expanded in her chest and he could feel each exhaled breath float along the exposed skin of his bruised stomach. She was in her own world, oblivious to Dean’s watching eyes and Sam and Bobby’s conversation about the next hunt that had come up. 

When she finished stitching his side she pulled up a stool to sit in front of him and work on cleaning the cuts on his face. She pulled the old wooden stool all the way up to his shins and she sat with her legs wide apart so they were on either side of his, getting as close as she could. He swallowed thickly, trying to wet his suddenly very dry mouth.

“How long you been back?” she asked quietly. Sam and Bobby didn’t seem to be listening anymore.

“I don’t wanna say…”

“Why not?” she wasn’t looking away from her work on his forehead, but he watched her.

“Truth be told… I’m scared you’ll hit me again,”

“That long, huh?” she tried so hard to mask the hurt on her face, but it was there just long enough for him to see it.

He put his hand on her thigh gently and she instantly stiffened. Without looking, her hand that was cleaning his cut flicked and gave him a warning smack.

“Keep your hands off me, Winchester,” she growled.

He wanted to be upset. He wanted to insist that she forgive him and understand why he did things the way he had. But he knew that if the roles had been reversed he would be just as livid as she was. He sat in ashamed silence as she finished.

“Don’t mess with your stitches,” she warned letting him get up. She turned to Sam, “Well? You gunna get your tall self in this chair?”

He smiled and sat down as she looked him over and started cleaning his cuts.

“Wait… why are you here?” Dean asked from where he leaned on the desk beside them.

Her lips pressed together to form a line as she clearly thought through her answer. Then, as though to give up trying to word it nicely, she shrugged and just said it, “I’ve been huntin’,”

“Excuse me?” Dean was suddenly just as angry as she was. Sam was regretting sitting down before this news came to light. He couldn’t escape the coming argument and her wrath would be unleashed on his already tender wounds. Bobby snickered in the doorway.

“I’ve been hunting, Dean,” she said slowly, “I’m pretty good,”

“True,” Bobby noted from the door only to be silenced by Dean’s icy glare.

“Why?”

“You were gone,” she said quietly, every ounce of pain hung from her words, “You were gone and I never got the chance to even try to stop it,”

“No one could!” he interrupted.

“But I wasn’t even given the luxury of knowing about it!” she snapped. After a deep breath she continued, “and ‘sides, I’ve mostly been travelin’ ‘round as a medic… goin’ to the areas that seem to have the most hunts goin’ on and patchin’ people up between jobs,”

“She’s been a big help, Dean,” Bobby interjected, “Our own medical miracle,” he laughed, “Gives us someone to come to that won’t ask questions,”

“I don’t care,” Dean growled as his knuckles turned white with his grip on the desk, “I don’t care what kind of help she is or how good’a huner… I want you out, Lacey,” he demanded.

She scoffed, “Right, not gunna happen, sugar,”

“What happened to your house? Your job?” Sam asked trying to create a non-obvious subject change.

“House got burned down… and I guess when they find your body turned to charcoal under said house they give your job to someone else,” she gave a shrug and half grin.

“How’d it happen?” Sam asked.

“Demons… came lookin’ for me after… well, after you came and told me ‘bout Dean,”

Dean clenched his jaw; he didn’t want to hear about that. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he had put her in this world; he had put her in this danger. He turned his head away from them and looked out the window catching a glimpse of her car.

“You got your car repainted,” Dean muttered, more of a statement then a question.

“Yeah, had to make it look a little different now that I’m dead,” she smirked.

Sam watched his brother shift his weight and stare at the floor. He could tell by the look on Dean’s face that it would take a long time for him to forgive himself for bringing Lacey into all this… if he ever forgave himself at all.

“Dean, come in ‘ere. I’ll get you caught up on the next hunt,” Bobby said motioning to the other room, “Already told Sam,”

Dean grunted and unwillingly pushed away from the desk. He’d left her once… he didn’t wanna do it again, not until she forgave him.

Lacey was placing a few stitches on Sam’s chest, quietly biting the inside of her cheek as she focused.

“He wanted to, you know?” he whispered.

“Wanted to what?”

“Tell you he was back… he wanted to. But he wouldn’t let himself. Said you’d be safer that way… that was before he knew you’d been hunting though. Doubt he’ll leave here without you now,”

“Why’s that? Y’all don’t need me taggin’ along. You do fine on your own,”

“He’ll wanna be able to protect you,”

“I don’t need protecting,” she said firmly.

“I agree,” He said quickly in his own defense, “But that’s just how he is,”

She sighed deeply before nodding, “I know, he hated my neighborhood. Said it was too dark and too spread out that something could happen,” she laughed a little at the older Winchester’s excessively protective streak. 

 

In the kitchen Bobby gave Dean information about the hunt he wanted them to go on. Dean interrupted him about halfway through.

“Why’d you teach her? Why’d you bring her here?”

“’cause I had to! You idgits left her to the dogs!” Bobby told him.

“What does that mean?!”

“Means you didn’t teach her anything to keep herself safe and Sam led them straight to ‘er,”

Dean’s face went from guilty to shocked all in the span of one sentence, “He what?”

“Boy didn’t mean to… he just laid a path for them to follow him the whole way there. They followed him, I followed them. Thank god you at least had the good sense to ward her house ‘else I wouldn’t have gotten there in time and those bones they found in the ashes would really be her!”

“Oh, yes,” Dean scoffed sarcastically, “Let’s thank god! Because god probably had so much to do with it! There is no god, Bobby!”

Bobby didn’t say anything as Dean got his little rant out, “There’s no god. Me and a million other people screamed and prayed for a god and it never came. Left us there. And there’s no way he didn’t hear ‘cause I can still hear it! There is no god,”

Dean walked out and slammed the front door on his way to sit on the hood of the Impala. 

 

 

“So, you gunna forgive him?” Sam asked Lacey as she finished his last bandage.

She sat back on her heels for a moment before sighing and shrugging, “Maybe. I’m not sure yet,”

“C’mon, you gotta forgive him eventually,” Sam pried.

“I don’t ‘gotta’ do anything,” she said defiantly. 

He raised his hands in surrender and went to see when Dean wanted to leave for the next job.

 

Dean sat leaning on the hood of the Impala as he looked out across the sea of salvaged cars. Him and Sam played hide-and-seek out there as kids. He smiled a bit at the sight of an old white truck that he hid behind once. He had jumped out from behind it to scare Sam and it made Sam pee his pants. He felt bad at the time, but as they got older it got funnier.

“’member when you scared the pee outta me?” Sam laughed as he walked up to lean beside his brother.

“I was just thinkin’ about that,”

“Jerk,”

“Bitch,”

They smiled and looked around in silence. It was a sunny day in May. It had been over a year since his deal came due. That meant it had been a year since he’d seen Lacey, and the first time he sees her she slapped him in the face.

“You kinda deserved it, you know?” Sam said. Like always, his little brother knew exactly what he was thinking about.

“Did not!”

“You left her for a year. No note, no call, nothing. She found out you had died,”

“Yeah, ‘cause you told her!” Dean interrupted but Sam continued.

“And you never told her that you’d come back. She’s lived a year believing you were gone,”

“And she’s probably moved on now,” Dean sounded sad as he looked out across the cars again.

“Doubt it,” Sam grunted.

They were silent again as Dean sat and thought about it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter. I don't remember it being this long, but here it is.

Dean’s P.O.V.

I stomped up the steps to go find Lacey. Damn Sammy got me thinkin’ about it and I needed to talk to her. I needed her to understand… or at least hear what I had to say. The front door squeaked as it slammed shut behind me and I could hear Bobby answering phones at his desk. I couldn’t find her in the living room and all her supplies had been cleaned up. She wasn’t in the kitchen either. 

Bobby finally had a moment between calls, “Hey, Bobby, you seen Lacey around?”

“Don’t you start nothin’ with her,” he warned.

“I’m not! Where is she?”

“Pro’ly out in the shed,”

Before I could ask what she’d be doing in the shed the phone rang and he answered it. I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked across the back lawn to the shed. You can hardly consider it a lawn anymore, though. It’s more dirt and dust than it is grass. I could hear tools inside the shed as I came up and leaned in the doorway.

She was facing away from me with her hair up out of her face with little pieces that had escaped hanging down. She had tied her tank top up under her ribs and you could see the sweat shine on her skin. I noticed she’d gotten a little tan since I saw her last. The hood of her Mustang was propped up and she was bent over fiddling with the engine. With one knee up on the bumper she leaned forward a little more, making her already low-slung jeans dip a little lower. It was like something straight from my dreams… only, in my dreams she probably wouldn’t have jeans on. 

I could tell that she knew I was there, but she was choosing to ignore me so I didn’t say anything for a while and just watched her work. She sat up straight and used the back of her hand to wipe the sweat from her face before grabbing the next wrench and trying to loosen a bolt. She was having some trouble with it and kept trying harder.

“Wait, wait,” I walked up behind her and held her hand in mine, “Turn more with your shoulder, not your elbow,” I guided her body through the movement, “See?”

“Yeah,” She said softly. She didn’t sound mean or angry and she turned her head to face mine, only inches away, “Thanks,” she smiled a little.

God I missed that smile, those eyes, her voice. She pulled away from me and I took the hint to back off, going to stand by the wall.

“So, what’re you working on?” I asked.

“Just practicing,” the tone of her voice was happy and upbeat, I found myself smiling, “Bobby’s been teachin’ me some things. I help around here when I can, and if I’m out on the road he wants me to know what to do if something breaks down,”

“Good idea,” I couldn’t think of what else to say, “You, um, your hair got longer,” god I sounded like an idiot.

“That tends to happen after a year,” her tone wasn’t so happy anymore.

I just wanted to beg her forgiveness… then push her up against a wall because damn she looked hot. It really wasn’t fair. How am I supposed to focus when she’s bent over a classic car and glistening with sweat? I’d been with other girls since I came back top-side… but could only think about her. Nothing could really compare to her. 

“What’d’ya need, Dean?” she asked with a sigh. I missed the sound of her voice saying my name, only now she didn’t say it like it was the most beautiful word she’d ever said… now her voice hesitated slightly on my name, like she wasn’t sure if I’d disappear. 

When she asked what I needed all I could think was, ‘I need you,’ but I doubt that’d go over well right then.

She turned to me and leaned back against the car, wiping oil off her hands. She had a few grease spots on her shirt and a dark streak on her forehead, she still looked amazing. As she leaned against the car I saw a black mark by her hipbone. I looked closer to see it was a part of a tattoo… she didn’t have that a year ago.

“Why’d ya come out here?” She asked. 

“I, uh, I wanted to talk,”

“’bout what? How you didn’t tell me that you only had a year? How you didn’t tell me you were gunna go to hell? Oh, or how ‘bout when you didn’t tell me you came back?” she had pushed off the car and stepped a little closer. She was right and it made me mad.

“I did what I had to,” I tried to explain.

She nodded with a sarcastic smile, “Oh, ‘what you had to’, cool.” She looked down and sniffed back whatever emotion was there, “So, you didn’t have to tell me? Was I not high up enough on your list of important people? List of people you care enough to tell somethin’ this important?”

I snapped. I grabbed her by her upper arms and spun her around pinning her to the wall. Her back connected with the wood with a sharp thud and her head bounced off the wall, enough to shock her. I heard the air leave her lungs as the sudden motion knocked the wind out of her before she gasped. She looked terrified, I’d never laid my hands on her like that but I couldn’t bring myself to let go, I kept a tight grip on her arms.

“It wasn’t ‘cause you weren’t important and it sure as hell wasn’t ‘cause I don’t care ‘bout you,” I growled.

She took a deep breath to steady herself, but the words still shook as they came out her mouth, “Then what was it?”

The fear in her voice made me drop my hands, “I don’t know,” I muttered. 

I could see the red marks from my fingers on her arms and prayed they wouldn’t bruise. I could never forgive myself for that, and she shouldn’t either… I couldn’t believe I did that.

“Well, tell me when you figure it out,” she said, turning to leave.

I grabbed her wrist; I had to fix this, “Wait,”

She spun back to face me and tore her arm away from my grip. I could see the tears in her eyes and hear them in her voice as she yelled, “Wait for what, Dean? For you? Because I have!” her voice turned into a soft squeak, “I have, I hoped and I prayed and I waited. And now you’re here… and I should be happy… but I can’t. You would’a been the first I went to… I waited… and I don’t know if I can anymore,”

I couldn’t form words, not that it’d do any good, the second she had finished talking she walked out of the shed. 

Leaning against the door of her car, I slid down onto the cold cement floor. I pulled my wallet out of my pocket quickly and with shaking hands I carefully unfolded the sheet of paper. 

‘When you start needing home,’

Her smooth handwriting swirled along the page, but this time I found my eyes drawn to the bottom where she had taped a few pictures.

 

She had drug me along with her to a little carnival in town. I felt awkward and out of place, but it made her smile and she looked so excited about it. They had a photo booth, and I begged not to but she wanted pictures. It was her birthday; I couldn’t bring myself to say no.  
Now here they were. A set of four pictures of her and I together. Black and white, but you could still tell she had the most beautiful eyes. Her stunning smile, her laughing face, her tongue sticking out with her eyes crossed; it was all the versions of her I was lucky enough to see. But it was the one on the bottom I liked the most. She had made me pose for picture after picture like a little action figure, but at the end I surprised her and kissed her on the cheek right before the picture took. Hey, they did it in movies so I figured I’d give it a try. Her expression was so thrilled and stunned at the same time. We got two copies so we could each have them. I never thought I could be so cheesy but she brought it out of me. 

I thought of that day of the carnival the whole time I was in hell. Every day for 40 years. I relived it in my head over and over and focused on getting back to her and how I would never let her go again. I focused on coming back for Sam and for her.  
But then I got back, and everything was so messed up and angels and demons got involved and I couldn’t put her in harm’s way like that. So I hoped, all the time, every day, that she had moved on.

I had to pull myself together. Sitting on the floor wouldn’t help anything. I put the letter back carefully and dusted off my jeans as I stood up. I stood looking out the shed door as she walked toward the house. Sam came around the corner and stopped her when he saw the hurt on her face. He dipped his head to look her in the eyes and he held onto her arms… far more gently than I had. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. I was in the dark of the shed and he couldn’t see me there.

She shook her head and looked away from him, trying to be strong like always. But she gave in; she let out a strangled sounding cry and fell into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. It should have been me that she ran too, that would be the one holding her. It should have been my hands running up and down her back to sooth her tears.

I couldn’t be mad at Sam; it was my own fault that she didn’t feel safe with me anymore. I couldn’t hear what they said over my own thoughts, but I watched as Sam threw a brotherly arm around her shoulders and led her inside.

With my hands planted firmly in my pockets, one hand holding onto my wallet where the letter and photos hid, I strolled slowly back to the house and slouched into a chair at the kitchen table across from Sam. He didn’t say anything to me just shook his head and looked back at the book he had been reading when I walked in. After a few silent minutes I stood up to get a drink.

“Want one?” I said from the fridge.

“Hm? Oh, yeah,”

I set the beer in front of him and took my seat again and sighed, “So this job,”

“What’d you do?” Sam interrupted.

“What?”

“To her, I mean. She’s really upset, man,”

“Nothin’ Sam, it’s none of your business,”

He shook his head and took a gulp from his bottle, “Whatever, I don’t think we should head out on a hunt just yet,”

“Why? Need your next hit of demon juice?” I sneered. It was low, but we both know what was going on.

“Come on, you know I quit,”

“I know you said you quit… but I don’t believe it, Sam, I don’t,” I turned to face him straight on, “You haven’t been normal, man, I can tell something’s wrong,”

He grumbled to himself as he slammed the book shut and stormed out of the room, leaving me at the table to finish my beer alone.

 

A few days later Sam had run off to do his own thing. I don’t know what and I acted like I didn’t care but I was a little worried about him. Lacey and I had been going after demons trying to find any information we could on Lilith.

We had a demon tied to a chair in the middle of a devils trap. The old abandoned house creaked in the wind and it looked like it had been forgotten about for a long, long time. The demon’s dark hair stuck to his forehead where it was wet with holy water.

“So, who you wanna talk to?” Lacey asked it motioning between herself and me.

“I’d rather talk to you, I think, sweetheart,” he hissed. I didn’t like the way he looked at her but I stayed leaning against the wall with my arms crossed.

“Oh,” Lacey sighed strutting up beside him and pulling his head back by his hair, “Bad choice honey, he’s the nice one,” she pointed to me.

“You gotta be kidding me,” he scoffed.

She brought his head down and her knee up at the same time and they connected in the middle. He held his head back trying to keep the blood from dripping as he sniffed back tears from the definitely broken nose. I wasn’t sure if I was scared or turned on.

“Still think I’m kidding?” She hissed.

The demon looked to me, “She’s quite the firecracker there, Winchester,”

“So I’ve heard,” I grunted.

She splashed a bottle of holy water on him and he hissed through his teeth as his skin sizzled.

He started laughing before he looked up to meet her eyes, “Good to see you got your fight back after we took it from you,” his smile was disgusting. 

“Shut up,” She growled.

The demon’s eyes flashed to me and caught my confused look, “Oh, she hasn’t told you?”

“What?” I couldn’t help but ask and step forward.

“Dean,” she warned.

“Used you like a punching bag, didn’t they sweetie? One after another, wearing your families faces,” he chuckled darkly.

Her face was emotionless as she went to the table and got a syringe, he kept talking.

“We woulda killed her off too,” he said addressing me, “But good ol’ man Singer showed up to save the day,” she was headed toward him with the syringe filled with clear liquid, “Tell me, little girl, you still get jumpy when somebody comes to hug you? Flinch when someone pats you on the back?”  
She remained totally detached, a robot, as she grabbed him by the hand and turned his hand palm up before finding a vein and injecting the clear fluid.

“What’r’ya gunna do? Give me a tetanus shot?” he laughed.

“Close,” 

The demon yelled in pain, “What the hell is that?!”

“Holy water, bitch,” she tossed the syringe aside.

His head fell back as he groaned in pain before he looked up quickly, staring right at me with endless black eyes, “You should have heard her. Crying, begging. She cried for you, you know? It was pitiful. Good thing Singer showed when he did. We were about to kill her,”

Lacey had started the exorcism, reciting the Latin in a string of words faster than I’d heard someone say before. I never thought of the words as a beautiful language until I heard them flow through her lips.

“They’re just no fun once they lose their fight. I mean, what’s the point if all they do is lay there and cry? Where’s the fun… where’s the challenge?” he kept his eyes on me until she was almost to the end of the Latin.

“See you later, asshole,” she growled before reciting the last line.

She watched as the black smoke poured from the man’s body. The body slumped over and she turned away and calmly started to gather her things. I had never seen her work before, and I had to admit it was a little scary. What was that demon talking about?

I walked over to the body to see if the man was alive.

“Don’t bother,” she mumbled without turning to me, “He’s gone. I already saw the healed bullet wound to the back of his head,”

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she started out the door of the abandoned house toward the Impala. Lacey had at least sort of started talking to me again, though she didn’t always seemed pleased. She always looked torn when she looked at me, like she wanted to be close… but she was scared I’d vanish like smoke. 

I rushed out to follow her and caught her after she threw her bag in the back seat. She was reaching for the shotgun door when I grabbed her wrist.

“Lace, wait,” she turned to me slowly. Her eyes were glazed and she had no feeling … not even fake contentment… just… nothing.

“What was he talkin’ ‘bout, Lace?”

“Nothin’. He’s a demon, they lie,” she said stiffly as she crossed her arms securely around her chest, almost like she was hugging herself tightly or holding herself together.

“Was… was he talking ‘bout what I think he was?” I stepped closer, really hoping I was wrong.

Her blue eyes stared up at me and bore a hole into my heart when fear flashed across them. She bit her lip and looked away shaking her head, “No, it was nothing. They lie. I’m fine,”

“Lace,”

“I’m fine, Dean!” she yelled pacing away. She paced back and forth for a minute before leaning against the hood of the car and looking at the sky, the sun had just gone down.

I crossed my arms like hers and leaned against the car beside her, mimicking her pose and glancing down at her out the corner of my eye. She breathed a little laugh and leaned against me. That was about as close as we’d gotten over the past two weeks.

“You’re a bad liar,” I whispered.

“Well, you’d know all about lying,” she grumbled. She really wasn’t going to let that go easily… but at the same time, I don’t think I would either.

“Talk to me,”

“There’s nothin’ to say. Demons lie, I’m… I’m alright,”

“Right now you are,” I uncrossed my arms and put one behind her so I could look at her, “But you weren’t in there, what happened?”

“Dean,” she sighed. Her eyes found mine and begged me without need for the next words, “Please, just leave it,”

“Was he talking about what I think he was?” I asked again. I needed to know the truth, even if I didn’t want to know the truth.

She only looked away and nodded at the night sky.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What’d you want me to say, Dean? ‘Oh hey, welcome home! By the way, while you were gone I got attacked by half a dozen demons wearing my family,’ because that was something you needed to feel guilty for?”

“Hey! You’ve had no trouble making me feel guilty left and right about my deal anyway!” I shouted. We were facing each other in our screaming match.

“Because you should feel guilty about that!” she yelled back, “Those demons weren’t your fault though,”

“But I should’a been there to protect you!”

“I swear, Winchester, if you blame yourself for this… I swear I will strangle you,” she growled balling her fists.

“Why haven’t you said anything?” I asked in a softer voice. She had hidden it well.

“What’d you want me to do? Curl up on the floor and cry?” I watched her blue eyes as she watched me for any reaction to her words, “I wasn’t going to sit around and pout just ‘cause I got dealt a shitty hand. I had work to do. I have work to do. I won’t let myself… I can’t let… I can’t let my family die like that and not do something about it,”

She sighed and threw her arms out to her sides and looked around, “This is it,” she said gesturing to herself, “Broken ol’ me. Shit happens. It’ll happen again. And all I can do is kill as many of those assholes as I can before they go and do it to someone else!”

“Lace,” I stepped toward her and she stepped back holding a warning finger toward me.

I stopped and watched as she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths before opening her arms and charging into my chest without opening her eyes. She clung to me tighter than she ever had. I could feel her shake with sobs as I wrapped my arms around her and held her.

“I’m sorry, Lace, I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

She only whimpered through her tears.

I would fix this. I had to get her trust back and I would. I had to.


End file.
